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Away from the battle, the watchtowers of Sanctuary were silent, while teachers kept a vigil. The dust cloud had stopped, and the multiple lower class signatures were either gone or retreating, but the big one was still there, even if it had stopped advancing. Muttered prayers were heard all over the halls, and here and there groups of students were gathered-praying, weeping, or other, less mentionable activities-in the activities that humans find themselves engaged in when one’s mortality is nigh.

The teachers did what they could to console the distraught, and reassured those who would listen. Mostly, they let the students face the crisis as their various faiths and nationalities would have them do, and if they simply closed the door for a few couples, well, if it were truly the end it wouldn’t matter. If it weren’t, well, Sanctuary was in for a spike in population.

Still on a collision course, and almost close enough to spit on were the Prince and his group. He flapped the wings, and started to climb-and then stalled, folded the wings and began to dive towards the creature below them. Namid saw the gap the Prince had warned her of, and fired a Firefly into the creature’s forearm. An aluminum thermite reaction touched off deep in the muscle, and muted flashes escaped the clearish tissue, which was rapidly suffusing blue, then withering from the heat. The vent closed, then burst open, as the Firefly’s secondary charge lit and the forearm was torn apart.

“Good shot! Ouray will be proud!”

Namid heard, and part of her acknowledged, but her only reply was to open her mouth and start a mournful keening, a song of hunting and death. She readied a handful of aether-tipped arrows. They all found their mark in the flayed flesh of the forearm.

Thor was on the other side, whereupon he encountered Hariel. Not knowing him, and not truly caring, he vaulted up the arm to him and swung his hammer against the joint that shut the gill plate, shattering it. Hariel, knowing help when he saw it, tugged the sword free and swung in a wide arc, finally liberating the gill plate of the creature. It roared in pain, and then they heard another type of cry-shrill, and panicked.

One on one side, one on the other the Prince and Irian were cutting its eyes out.